The Kiss and Tell Series
by ManlyFashion
Summary: What a night out in a demon karaoke bar can do to you. Wes/Fred **6th story in the series uploaded**
1. Kiss and Tell - 1st in the series

A Whole New World **Kiss and Tell  
By Vengeance Girl**   
  
Fred leaned backwards and stretched. It was nice, spending time with Wesley and Cordelia, and Gunn, but she wished that they'd chosen somewhere else to go. Caritas wasn't exactly her favourite place - mainly because she almost died the last time she was there. But they didn't get many chances to go out and have fun, so when they did, she didn't want to argue.  
  
She looked over at Cordelia, who was drunkenly arguing with Wesley about something pointless, as usual. Gunn had all but fallen asleep, and yet *she* still hadn't even had a drop of alcohol. She wondered if they thought she was a square, but it was just something she wasn't really ready for. She hadn't had many drinking experiences pre-Pylea, so she was a little afraid she wouldn't know when to stop. She remembered the ads they'd shown at Christmas when she was a little girl, the drink-driving ones that had made her vow never to drink. Of course, that hadn't worked, but she still made sure she didn't ever get too wasted. But … maybe as her body wasn't used to it any more … she didn't want to risk having just one, and then not being able to stop. Especially in here. Who knows what they have in those cocktails. She stood up and cleared her throat. "I'm going to the bathroom," she announced.   
  
"Yep, 'kay, seeya Fred," Cordelia mumbled. As soon as Fred was out of sight, she prodded Wesley. "Wesley. Quick. Get Lorne to put some Vodka in her coke or something. God knows she needs something to lighten her up a bit. Remember this was supposed to be fun for all of us, but she's not enjoying herself." She swayed a little. "Women know these things." Wesley nodded.  
  
"I understand." He attempted to stand up, but his knees buckled slightly. Cordelia reached out to catch him, but was beaten to it by Lorne. She squinted up at him.  
  
"Ah, Lorne, there'yar. Get some vodka, Fred needs it."  
  
Lorne raised an eyebrow. "Fred *needs* it? I doubt that somehow."  
  
"Well okay then smartypants, we wanna get Fred completely out of it, so get that vodka and top up this glass." She slung her arm at him, her hand clutching Fred's glass, which was a quarter full of coke. "Wesley, you go with him and get some more tequila."  
  
Wesley swallowed, took a moment to gather his wits, before attempting to stand again. This time his legs supported his weight, and he made it to the bar with Lorne. By the time he returned with the drinks, Fred was back. Wesley placed her drink down on the table. She looked up at him with wide eyes.  
  
"Oh, Wesley thank you, but I didn't want another. I didn't bring any more money."  
  
"It's okay, Fred, this one's on Cordelia." Cordy attempted to respond with a 'hey', but instead put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from vomiting.   
  
A couple of hours and at least four vodka/cokes later, Cordelia and Wesley were sobering up a little, and Fred's drunkenness had probably met them around halfway. At least, they were all at the stage where they could stand, (not including Gunn, who has fallen fast asleep on one of the Caritas tables after the club had closed an hour previously), and yet just drunk enough for Fred to suggest a game of spin the bottle, and Wesley and Cordelia to agree to it. Gunn was woken up, and he was admittedly grumpy, but got straight into the party spirit when he realised what they were doing.   
  
Cordelia had the first spin, and obliged with a peck on the cheek when the neck of the bottle pointed at Gunn.   
  
Fred went next, spinning the bottle with some vigour. Her eyes followed the bottle on each rotation, and she suddenly found herself wondering why she'd suggested this. When it finally came to rest, it pointed at Wesley. She looked over at him, and for a second you could almost see her mind ticking over. Then, with her heart in her mouth, she stood and walked over to Wesley's seat. Planting herself on his knee, she leaned in to do what she'd wanted to do for weeks. Truth be told, she would have done it a lot sooner if it hadn't been for Billy - it had taken Wesley a good while to get over what he'd done to her, no matter how many times she told him she forgave him. She knew he knew inside that she didn't believe there was anything to forgive him for; she knew it wasn't him. But she had to respect him. She couldn't push him - she knew what it was like being pushed into something you weren't ready for.   
  
Before Wesley had a chance to react to Fred suddenly being sat on his knee, she'd covered his mouth with her own, kissing him softly. When he was over the shock, Wesley slid one hand down her side to rest on her hip, and let the other tangle in her hair, softly massaging her neck. The kiss deepened when Fred realised that he wasn't pushing her away, and the moment became more and more passionate.  
  
Cordy glanced at Gunn, stunned.   
  
"Okay," she whispered. "Didn't see that one coming."  
  
The kiss finally ended when Fred needed to breathe. She didn't move from her position on Wesley's knee, though, and Cordelia noticed that Wesley's arms now both lay around Fred waist, his hands interlaced with hers.  
  
Gunn yawned, bringing Cordelia's attention away from Wes and Fred, and back to what was now a full-blown party in her head.   
  
"Okay! I think that's enough fun and frolics for one night, you two - shall we be leaving?" Lorne appeared beside her shoulder.  
  
"I think that would be a great idea - some of us need to sleep, you know." Taking the hint, the party gathered up their coats, and meandered back to the Hyperion, where Angel was fast asleep on the sofa, covered in some kind of demon blood. They'd all be staying in the Hyperion recently, as they'd been so busy they barely had time to eat, never mind go home. That's why Angel had given them the night off. The four co-workers tiptoed past Angel, and made their way up to their rooms. Wesley and Fred hadn't left each other's side since they'd left Caritas, and when they reached Fred's door, they were reluctant to part.  
  
"You could … y'know … come in for a little while," offered Fred. "We could … talk, and … stuff."  
  
Wesley smiled. "I'd like that." Wesley stepped into the room, and realised that he hadn't been in it since a few days after they repainted it. Fred's parents had sent her a couple of boxes of stuff from her room in Texas, and in the couple of months she'd started to venture out into LA by herself, she'd collected quite a few trinkets. Pride of place on her nightstand was a picture of the two of them, Cordelia, Angel and Gunn, in a pretty silver frame. It was a good picture, he could see why she liked it. Everyone looked happy. He continued to look around the room whilst Fred was in the bathroom, removing her makeup and jewellery. Her desk was neat and tidy, except for a bunch of papers in the middle. He picked one up, and glanced at it. He smiled when he noticed it was one of her school reports.  
  
"Winifred has an inquisitive mind, and is always interested in new scientific concepts."   
  
"Whatcha lookin at?" Wesley jumped as Fred appeared behind him. She looked over his shoulder.   
  
"Oh! You found my reports." She smiled reminiscently. "Miss Calder was my favourite teacher. She was so full of encouragement, she knew I enjoyed her lessons. She was the one who made me think of becoming a physicist. I've been meaning to write her, let her know how I am."  
  
"You kept in touch?"  
  
"For a while. She was a good friend of my mom's after I graduated. I know her address is in one of the boxes Dad sent me." She waved her arms at the three large boxes stacked one on top of the other in the corner. "I don't know where, though."  
  
"Why don't we look? I can help you sort the boxes out. If that's what you want." he added hastily.  
  
"Would you mind? They've been sitting there for a month, and I just haven't gotten round to going through it. We've been so busy!"   
  
Wesley lifted the first box down, and Fred fetched a pair of scissors to cut the tape with. Once the box was open, they sat down on the floor, Fred now wearing a pair of very summery silk pyjamas, Wesley having removed his shoes and loosened the top button of his shirt. One by one the unpacked things, discussed where to put them, every now and then Fred uttering a quiet "Oh!", as she found things that she thought would have been thrown out long ago. Her favourite duvet cover, and her thick woollen jumper that she'd always loved pulling out of the closet every year, because it meant it was almost Christmas. Everything had a story, and Wesley heard every single one of those stories that night. He enjoyed every minute of it, until they were down to the bottom of the second box and he noticed Fred's eyes begin to sag.   
  
"Do you want me to go, so you can get some sleep?" He asked, softly.  
  
"No! I'm not tired." The determination was spoiled a little by the yawn she stifled at the end of her sentence. She smiled again, and then nodded. "Maybe I'm a little tired. But that doesn't mean you have to leave."   
  
She stood up, and sat on her bed, pulling one of the blankets her mom had sent up with her. Patting the bed beside her, she indicated for Wesley to sit with her.   
  
"You've heard so much about me tonight. I still hardly know anything about you. Sit here, and talk to me. But don't take it the wrong way if I fall asleep." She smiled that smile again, and Wesley couldn't help but grin back - it was an infectious smile. She was so beautiful, and when she smiled like that at him, it made him feel like he was the only person in the world that mattered.   
  
He settled himself on the bed, and Fred leaned into him so that he could wrap his arms around her tightly. He didn't mind talking about his father with her like this - that man seemed a million miles away right now. As if it had been someone else.  
  
"Well, what do you want to know?"  
  
"Tell me everything. I know you didn't have a great time when you were younger, your dad was violent? Cordelia only told me that I had to give you time after Billy, she didn't go into why."  
  
"He wasn't my Dad. He was a father in name only. No Dad could behave like he did to me and mum. Sometimes when its dark, and I'm alone, I can still see him sneering at me, hear him telling me I'd never amount to anything, feel his hand against my cheek. And that was on a good day. For so many years I would have done anything to please him, but nothing ever did." Fred listened to him talking, watched the pain in his face with pain in her own. How anyone could treat such a wonderful man in such a way, she could never and would never understand. "Once, while I was locked in the cupboard, he went out into the back garden for a while. Mum came in with a five pound note and a packet of biscuits and told me to get as far away as I could." He was starting to speak with a shake in his voice, and Fred snuggled in closer to him. "I can remember it as if it was yesterday. He caught me on my way out of the door. I was locked in the cupboard for a week with no food after that, and he said I was only getting my morning cup of tea because 'it would spoil his reputation if they found a dead body in the cupboard'. Mum got off worse though. I could hear her screaming for help and I couldn't do anything about it. I tried the door handle over and over, I even tried to break the door down but I just ended up with a dislocated shoulder, that I had to endure as I wasn't allowed to go to the hospital."  
  
"We don't have to talk about this -"  
  
"No, I want to. The watchers council took me away from them for training 12 years ago, and this is the first time I've spoken to anyone about it. I was so dreadfully timid when I arrived there, they almost gave up on me. That was when I realised that if he wouldn't ever praise me, I had to work harder than ever so that I knew inside I wasn't a complete failure, even if he didn't believe it. I was 17 years old when I realised that my father didn't matter, he was just like a parasite that I'd had to put up with, and was now free of. So many times since I've called home and asked mother to come over here and live with me, but she insists he's better now. I don't know if I believe her, but short of going back to England and dragging her here, there's nothing I can do about it. And that would make me as bad as him."  
  
"You could never be as bad as him."  
  
"But do you see now? Why it hurt me so much when I attacked you? You were the one I cared most about, and it took so little to turn me into him."  
  
"It didn't turn you into him. It was nothing to do with him. It was Billy, it was happening to Gunn too, and it would have happened to any other guy who came into contact with the blood, or any part of him." She turned on the bed to face him. "I trust you, Wesley. I trust you with my life, completely and always. I mightn't have known you very long, but I know that you're one of the kindest, gentlest people I've ever met, and I would not hesitate in announcing that to anyone who would listen." She smiled, and reached up to wipe the tear that had started to trickle down his face. "But please don't make me. I'm not great with public speaking," she grinned, and he smiled back.   
  
"It's okay, I believe you, Fred." She leaned up to him and kissed him again, much more softly than at Caritas. This kiss was to comfort him, and they both knew that it meant so much more than the first one had. That had been part of a drunken game, this was a sober show of genuine affection. Fred snuggled back down into Wesley's side, and pulled the blanket over them, stifling another yawn as she did so.  
  
Wesley smirked. "Am I that bad?"  
  
"Never," she laughed. She glanced at the clock on her wall, and started when she realised it was 5am. Wesley followed her look, and smiled.  
  
"Maybe we should get some sleep now?"  
  
"I think we should."  
  
They both wriggled themselves down from their sitting positions so that they were lying flat, Fred on her side, one arm over Wesley and the other by her side. He removed his glasses, and took her hand in his, leaving the other arm in its place around her back. Within minutes they were both fast asleep.  
  


****  
  


Cordelia peeped into Fred's bedroom as she made her way downstairs for an aspirin. She'd heard them talking until a couple of hours ago, and smiled when she saw that they both lay on their sides, Fred having stolen all the blanket. She noticed their fingers were still laced together, before closing the door quietly and tiptoeing downstairs.  
  
It was 11am by the time Fred and Wesley made it downstairs. They entered the kitchen area joking and laughing, and found Cordelia making herself some toast before she sat down with the newspaper.   
  
"Morning. Sleep well?"  
  
Fred and Wesley replied in unison. "Wonderfully."  
  
"Well, sorry to break the mood, but Angel and Gunn have gone off a-hunting, you wanna go back them up? They'll be somewhere near Taco Belle." Fred's eyes lit up at the mention of her favourite fast food place.  
  
"I'll bring you something back, sweetie." He went and stood beside her where she was making herself a coffee, and kissed her on the back of the neck. She turned around and kissed him on the lips.   
  
"Go," she smiled, pointing at the door. "Do the man thing."   
  
He laughed. "Me take weapon, me kill big nasty." He picked his coat up from the end of the banister where he'd hooked it last night, and took a large axe from the cabinet, before leaving, looking determined.   
  
The second he was gone, Cordelia turned to Fred eagerly.   
  
"Well?!"  
  
"Well what?"  
  
"What happened?!"  
  
Fred smiled, teasingly. "A good girl never kisses and tells."  
  



	2. Everything - 2nd in the series

** Everything  
Vengeance Girl**  
  
Wesley walked into the office, where Angel sat staring at the computer, clicking away furiously.  
  
"You stupid machine! What have you done?!" Angel sat back, and looked at Wesley, exasperated. "Please tell me you've got some good news."  
  
"Not news as such, more ... information. And it's not really related to any of the cases ... more related to ... well, can you manage without Fred and me tonight? We've hardly had a chance to see each other lately and I'd like to cook for her."  
  
"Cook? What are you going to make?"  
  
"Well, I thought I might make spaghetti bolognese. Not particularly romantic, I know, but I can just about make it, and I'm hoping she'll appreciate the effort!"  
  
"Sure. How long have you guys been together now, anyway?"  
  
Wesley didn't hesitate. "One month and three days."  
  
Angel smiled. "I'm glad it's going well for you both."  
  
"So am I." Wesley turned to leave the office. "Oh!" He exclaimed. "Don't tell her! Cordelia is going to take her shopping to give me chance to get things ready and use the kitchen. They'll be back around six."  
  
"Would you like me to get Cordy and Gunn out of the way for you? I'll take them to Caritas ... or I'll think of something more exciting. I'm sure once she hears I'm paying, Cordy will be up for anything!"   
  
"That would be great - one less thing for me to worry about."  
  
The afternoon passed slowly as Wesley prepared. Once Cordelia and Fred had left, he began to rush around. He put the mince into a pan and let it start to cook while he went to get the room ready. He'd chosen the one right at the end of the second floor, because it had been one of his favourite rooms, it had a lovely view of the city at night. He'd been nipping up there over the last week or so, spending every moment he had spare painting the walls and laying a carpet. He still didn't know how he'd managed to get the carpet all the way there, and laid, without anyone noticing. Nor had they noticed that the room had suddenly acquired a lock. It was one of many, and not near any of the other frequently used rooms - why should they?  
  
He'd painted the walls a pale yellow, as he'd heard it could be calming. Of course, that could be complete codswallop, as this kind of stuff usually was, but he did like the colour anyway. The carpet was a deep red that complimented the wall colour, and wouldn't take much cleaning like a light colour would.  
  
He looked at his watch, and noticed that it was approaching 4pm. The furniture people should be arriving soon. He'd been out and ordered a red couch, to match the carpet, and a set of curtains the same colour. He fetched some picture frames, a hammer, and some nails from his room, and set about arranging them on the walls. The first was a Monet, one he'd always found calming - water lilies. The second was a picture of the five of them together, along with Fred's parents, covered in paint after finishing Fred's walls. He loved how happy they all looked, and Fred had a cute spot of paint on the tip of her nose. As soon as he'd seen them developed, he knew it would have to go on the wall, and this was the perfect room for it. The third was a picture of himself and Fred that Cordelia had taken one morning a few weeks ago, and it was the first one he'd had of the two of them together like that. It meant a lot to him, and Fred knew that. The other pictures were paintings that he or Fred admired, photos that made him laugh, or remember a particular moment.   
  
He was just straightening the last picture, a photo of York Minster that he had taken on a school trip when he was about five, when Angel's voice floated up the stairs.  
  
"Wesley? Are you waiting for a couch?"  
  
He jumped up, and ran down the stairs two at a time, at the same time shouting to Angel. "Yes! That's mine! Sign for it will you?" Angel was finishing his signature as Wesley reached the bottom of the stairs, out of breath. Two delivery men were standing in the foyer.   
  
"Where do you want this?" Inquired the short one.   
  
"On the second floor. Can you get it up the stairs?" the younger one nodded as Angel went to help. Between the two delivery men and Angel, the sofa reached the right room without incident, Wesley following with the curtains. Wesley helped them push it into one corner, and then the pair of strangers left, leaving Angel to look around the room.   
  
"You've done a lot here, Wesley. How've you found the time?"  
  
"It's all been done in moments I've grabbed, here and there. Early mornings before anyone else gets up, late nights after Fred's gone to bed, the odd half an hour or so during the day..."  
  
"You've done a great job."  
  
"Thank you. I appreciate that. Anyway, I'd better get these curtains hung, and you'd better go back downstairs before this dinner ends up being a mourning for your dustiness."  
  
Angel laughed. "I'll leave you to it then. Is there anything I can do?" "You're doing plenty, just by keeping Cordelia out of the way!"  
  
After Angel left, Wesley continued to do little bits and pieces, making sure everything was perfect. He nipped downstairs to finish making the sauce, which he then left to simmer, but the rest of the time was spent taking things from his own room to the new room.  
  
Before long, he'd centred a table in the room, and brought two high backed chairs in and tucked them under. He found a lacy tablecloth, and set the table with place mats, wine glasses and a candle. Making sure there was a lighter handy, he set some other candles around the room - some on the mantelpiece, others just around the edge of the room on the floor. He checked his watch. 5pm. Time for a shower.  
  


****  
  


After his shower, Wesley dressed in his best dark blue trousers, and a beige shirt. Spraying on some after shave, he ventured downstairs to cook the spaghetti.   
  
Ten minutes later, at five to six, Wesley carefully drained the water from the pan and split the pasta onto the two plates. After spooning the sauce on top, he put the plates into the warm oven, and picked up a little dish of Parmesan cheese. Checking his watch again, he decided to head upstairs and wait. He didn't have to wait for long, as he heard Fred's voice floating through the door just as he reached the second floor.   
  
"I still don't understand why you made me wear this now. Surely I could have just tried it on again once we got back."  
  
"I told you. You need to wear it in. Besides, did you *see* how many guys were checking you out?!"  
  
Wesley felt a little jolt inside. Other men, checking out Fred. He shook the feeling away. Was that jealousy, Wesley? Surely not.   
  
"I don't want other men! I just want Wesley." He smiled as he made his way along into the room, and placed the cheese dish on the table. "Speaking of which, where is he? I thought he said he'd be here all afternoon."   
  
"He's upstairs," joined in Angel's voice. He must have finished attacking the computer. "And can I just say, Fred, you look absolutely amazing tonight - what's the occasion?" Wesley felt that little jolt again as he went around the room lighting all the candles, leaving the one on the table until last.  
  
"Cordelia's the occasion. I haven't got anything planned for tonight - in fact I'm going straight upstairs to take this off after I've been to see Wesley."   
  
Wes heard Fred's footsteps at on the stairs and quickly took his seat at the table. Downstairs, Cordelia looked at Angel and whispered "not before desert!"  
  
Fred spun around. "What was that?"  
  
"Nothing!" Cordelia did her best to look angelic, but it wasn't fooling Fred.   
  
"I'd say something clever to that, but I'm too tired to think of anything." Reaching the top of the stairs, Fred stopped, trying to decide where Wesley would be. She turned to head towards his room, until heard shuffling in the room at the other end of the corridor, followed by a small cough, and headed that way instead.   
Wesley looked up as she reached the door, and the light from the corridor framed her perfectly. Angel had been right, her new outfit completely took his breath away. She looked amazing in a strapless black dress with her long hair straightened and flowing over her shoulders.   
  
In return, her face was as much of a delight to behold as he had hoped. She looked thoroughly surprised, and as she entered the room she broke into a beautiful smile.   
  
"Have you done all this for me?"  
  
"No," he replied "its all for Gunn. I'm in love with him. Of course it's for you!" As Fred took her seat, smiling, Cordelia appeared at the door, plates in hand.   
  
"Somebody order dinner?" She smiled as she placed the plates on the table, and then turned to Wesley.  
  
"Angel's taking us to Caritas. That's where we'll be if you need us." She left them, closing the door behind her.   
  
Wesley looked at Fred, and almost laughed. Her eyes were wide, her face a mixture of joy and amazement. He reached down to the floor beside the table, and brought up an elegant vase containing a single rose. He placed it at the centre of the table, and when he looked at Fred he thought she was going to cry, she looked so happy.  
  
"Come on, eat! I've spent all afternoon cooking this for you, don't let it get cold!"  
  
She gasped. "You made this? It looks incredible!"  
  
"Don't sound so surprised!"  
  
"You told me you couldn't cook."  
  
"You haven't tasted it yet!"  
  
Laughing and joking, they tucked into their meal. Wesley couldn't remember ever being so happy, and he had Fred to thank for it. When they'd finished eating, Wesley suggested they go out and get some ice-cream.   
  
"I didn't have time to think of anything for desert. Besides, I only have time to make one fairly moderate meal in one day!"  
  
Fred laughed. "Let's not. That was a fantastic bolognese, Wesley, and I completely enjoyed it. I don't know if I could fit anything else into me. Why don't we just sit? Like we are now. This is nice."  
  
A few minutes later they'd relocated to the brand new sofa, so big that the pair of them almost disappeared into it. Removing her new shoes, Fred tucked her legs under her and snuggled into Wesley. He twirled strands of her soft long hair round his finger as they sat without talking, at first, just enjoying each other's company.  
  
"Fred?"  
  
"mmm?" she replied, sleepily.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"What for?"  
  
"For tonight. For making me happier than I've ever been before. For forgiving me. For everything."  
  
"Then I should thank you, too. Thank you for this meal. For being here for me. For putting up with me when I ramble. For ... for letting me fall in love with you."  
  
Wesley smiled, and tightened his arms around Fred. She settled her head deeper in his chest, and he kissed the top of her head. "I love you, too," he murmured. "I never thought I'd be able feel like I do with you - I couldn't even imagine it before. But this - you and me - it feels like the most natural thing in the world."  
  
Fred sat up and turned around to face Wesley. She kissed him softly on the lips, and then trailed her hands down his chest, where she began to undo the buttons on his shirt. Catching her hands in his, he looked straight into her eyes.  
  
"Are you sure this is what you want? You said -"  
  
"I know what I said, but I've never been more sure of anything. I know you love me, and I love you, and that's all I need."  
  
Wesley smiled, and returned her kiss, while she continued to undo the buttons. As she removed his shirt completely, he started to unzip her dress, the two of them kissing all the while. In those few minutes, if he'd had any doubts left, he knew that this was the woman he wanted to spend his life with. The kindest, gentlest, most intelligent woman he'd ever met, and she loved him back. He was in heaven. 


	3. How Much - 3rd in the series

How Much  
By Vengeance Girl

  
  
  
AUTHORS NOTE: Some of the dialogue is written as it would be read in a Geordie accent. Beware!   
  
"Fred?"  
  
"Mm-hmm?"  
  
Wesley shifted the young woman on his knee slightly so that he could see her face. He looked around his office noticing small things; tiny cracks in the paintwork, a slightly crooked frame on the wall. He sat in there almost every afternoon with Fred, and yet she was so beautiful he hardly even saw what was on the walls around him. He took in a deep breath.  
  
"You know how you've been asking if you can meet my mother?" Fred nodded. "I'm still not sure I'm ready to go back there, but how would you like it if we went and spend a week or so in England? I could show you where I grew up, and it would give us both a holiday that I think we deserve."  
  
Fred's eyes shone. "Really? I've always wanted to go to London, in all the books it sounded so pretty, so different … so romantic. I always thought I'd go with the man I loved."  
  
"Oh, well if you'd rather wait for him, I can cancel …" Wesley grinned as Fred swatted him on the arm.  
  
"You know what I mean. I love *you*!"  
  
"Well I'm glad you want to, because the tickets are non-returnable."  
  
"You've booked already?"  
  
"I got a good deal."  
  
"So when do we leave?"  
  
"Tomorrow."  
  
"What?! I can't be ready for tomorrow!"  
  
"Now if you were Cordelia, I'd agree. But as you aren't, and as I've already packed some things for you, I'm afraid I'm going to have to disagree. All you have to do is pick up a few things – toothbrush, other odds and ends you might want to take. I've packed clothes and shoes – Cordelia helped me so I think I might have things for every eventuality, including earthquakes, volcanoes and zombie alien attacks from Mars." Fred giggled. "So, we should probably get some sleep so we can be bright eyed for tomorrow."  
  
Fred jumped off his knee, and started to leave the room, stopping and turning when she reached the doorway. She looked back at Wesley, who'd already picked up a pen and started working. Maybe she was a bad influence on him – he certainly didn't get any work done when she was around!  
  
"Aren't you coming to help me?"  
  
"I think you can manage, and I really should get this done before we leave."  
  
"Are ya sure?" She smiled, and it was taking all his self-control to stop him from going with her. But he knew he had to finish his work, otherwise … well, there wasn't really an otherwise. Grinning from ear to ear, he cleared his throat.  
  
"You know that if I came with you, we'd manage anything *but* rest! As soon as I've finished this, I'm going to bed. You should do the same. I'll come and wake you when it's time to leave."  
  
Fred hated to admit it, but he was right. She knew she would need to be fresh for England, and when she was with him she couldn't keep her hands off him.   
  
"As long as you promise you won't leave without me!"  
  
"Would I? Besides, this trip is for you – there wouldn't really be any point, otherwise, would there?"  
  
  
  
***   
  
It was three in the morning, and Wesley had been true to his word, heading to bed only five minutes after Fred had left him around six hours ago. He lay on his bed, his eyes tight shut, tossing and turning. Fred stood at the doorway in her dressing gown, watching him. She was so excited she'd been unable to sleep, but obviously Wesley's problems lay far deeper than that. She knew he must be worried about the possibility of seeing his father again, but she'd hoped he might talk to her about it, instead of keeping it bottled up inside.  
  
Noiselessly she padded barefoot into his room, and lifted the covers on one side of his double bed. She managed to slip into the bed without waking him, and turned onto her side so she was able to hold one of his hands. Although he didn't wake, he seemed to visibly calm almost instantly, which made her feel better. Knowing that he was with her, and he wasn't hurting, calmed her down considerably, and within minutes, she too was asleep.  
  
***   
  
Three hours later, Fred awoke to the sound of Wesley's voice softly calling her name, and the smell of coffee. She rubbed her eyes, and pushed herself up in bed, to see her boyfriend standing in the doorway still wearing his pyjamas. He was carrying a tray laden with croissants and coffee, and he smiled when he saw she was awake.  
  
"Morning," he whispered. "I brought you breakfast."  
  
"What time is it?" She yawned.  
  
"Six am. We have to leave for the airport by seven thirty if we want to beat the traffic." He settled himself back down on the bed next to her and handed her a cup of coffee and a croissant, then took one for himself. "It was a nice surprise to see you when I woke up this morning. What happened?"  
  
"I couldn't sleep, and I could hear you moving about so I came to see what you were doing. You were rolling around like there was no tomorrow, Wesley. I had to get into bed and hold your hand before you calmed down? Then I must have fallen asleep. What were you dreaming about?"  
  
"My father. I think we should go and see him and mother. I need to face him again, so I can prove to both him and myself that I've got farther in my life than he ever expected me to, and I've got a beautiful girlfriend as well. He needs to know that he might have ruined my childhood, but he hasn't ruined the rest of my life as well."  
  
"I'm proud of you, Wesley. I was hoping you would realise that. Plus, I wanna meet your mom."  
  
"I know you do." He leaned over and kissed her.   
  
"This is a nice way to wake up."  
  
"And I hate to spoil the moment, but we'd better finish eating and get ready to leave."  
  
***   
  
Fred slept the entire length of the flight to England, spending most of the time with her head on Wesley's shoulder. By the time the plane landed at Heathrow Airport, they were both completely stiff and ready to drop. Once they'd collected their baggage, Wesley found a cab and they left for Surrey, to meet the elder generation of Wyndam-Pryces.   
  
The cab ride was tense, Fred nervous about meeting the man who had made Wesley so miserable and insecure for years, and Wesley nervous about re-meeting him. The cab pulled up at the end of a driveway leading to a large Victorian house. While Wesley paid the driver, Fred stood, amazed. Picking up their luggage, Wesley led the way up the drive, Fred trailing only slightly behind, taking it all in.   
  
Wesley paused, his finger hovering over the doorbell. "I'm not sure about this, Fred, maybe we should turn around and –" Before he could change his mind, the door opened, to reveal a slender lady in her early fifties with grey hair that was almost white. Her expression one of amazement, she stared and Wesley for a good thirty seconds before either of them spoke.   
  
"Wesley?" His mother's voice came out as barely more than a whisper. Wesley swallowed hard, and nodded, trying to keep back the tears. His mother swept him up in a huge hug, her eyes closed, facing Fred. Fred stood awkwardly, not sure where to look or what to do. After what seemed like an eternity, Wesley pulled away from the hug and stepped back next to Fred, holding his hand out. She took it gratefully, and moved closer to him.   
  
"Mother, this is Winifred Burkle, my..." he hesitated. Neither of them liked using the words 'boyfriend' or 'girlfriend' – they thought they sounded too childish. He looked into Fred's face, then back to his mother. "...this is the woman I love. Fred, this is my mother, Margaret."  
  
His mother looked intently at Fred, and then held out her hand. "Call me Molly."   
  
Fred let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, and smiled, taking Molly's hand and shaking it. "It's a real pleasure to meet you, ma'am."  
  
"Molly? Who's there?" A booming voice came from inside the house. One glance at Wesley's face and Fred knew whom it belonged to. He noticed her looking at him, and gave her a smile that was supposed to be reassuring, but came out as a grimace.  
  
Wesley signalled to his mother not to speak, and he entered the house, Fred behind him. Leaving their baggage on in the corridor, he entered the first room he came to.   
  
"Father." There was no love in the voice that spoke. Fred had never heard him sound so cold.  
  
"Oh, its you. What do you want?"  
  
"I've brought someone to meet you." He held his hand out to Fred, who took it and entered the room. "Father, this is Fred."  
  
Fred held her hand out tentatively. "Nice to meet you, Mr W-" She was interrupted before she could finish.  
  
"And?"  
  
"I thought you'd like to meet her."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I love her. And anyway, do I need a reason to bring someone into my home?"  
  
"This isn't your home, it hasn't been your home for a long time, and to be honest, you aren't welcome here." Fred was completely dumbstruck. How could anyone speak to their son like that?  
  
"Father, come into the kitchen with me."  
  
"No. Why should I?"  
  
"I want to speak to you alone."  
  
"Then tell the Yank to leave."  
  
"No. You will come and speak to me in the kitchen right now." Fred smiled to herself. This was a side of Wesley she liked, strong and in charge. Wesley's father refused to leave his place on the couch, so she told Wesley she'd wait outside for him. As much as she wanted him to get the upper hand on his father, she could see he was fighting a losing battle. She kissed him on the cheek, and whispered into his ear that she knew he could do it.  
  
Before she was even out of the door, she heard his father shouting.   
  
"What the hell do you think you are doing? Are you trying to drag my reputation down even further than it is already? Fired by your slayer – that's not a thing a father easily lives down, you know. Now you're supposedly "in love" with an American? This isn't on. I want the both of you on the first plane back to that place, and I don't want to see you again."  
  
"Father. I know you've never remotely respected me, but that's fine. I can live with that. But I will not have you degrading Fred. I love her, and she treats me a darned sight better than you ever did. I just wanted to come here to show you that I'm not a complete failure, like you wanted. In fact, I think I'm happier than you've ever been, and I'm certainly not a bully like you."  
  
Fred jumped as she heard the sound of hand on flesh. "Father, if I had any respect left for you at all, you would have just lost the last shred of it. Instead, you've just confirmed to me what I already knew." As Wesley exited the room, a determined look on his face, Fred ran to him.  
  
"Your cheek – does it hurt?" She rubbed it gently.  
  
"Not now you're here. Come on, Fred – we're leaving."  
  
"Leaving? But we just got here. Wesley it's eight o'clock in the morning. I just want to go to sleep."  
  
"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I can't stay in the same house as him a second longer. I'm taking you on a quick tour of my favourite places before we leave – we need to catch the train. I know it's not the best, but you can sleep there, the journey will take about four hours. We'll find somewhere to stay when we get to York."  
  
Reluctantly, Wesley bade his mother goodbye. Her hugged her tight, as he told her that she had to know there was always somewhere for her to stay in LA, and he was only a phone call away.  
  
"I know, honey."  
  
They spent the next few hours travelling from train to train on the underground, until they reached Kings Cross station and boarded the train to York. Once they'd found seats, Fred snuggled herself down into Wesley and listened sleepily as he told her stories about his uncle in Newcastle. Every chance he got, he stayed there. He was an uncle on his mother's side, and he spent the best times of his life there.   
  
Once they reached York, Wesley found them places in a small Bed & Breakfast, where Fred collapsed on the bed and promptly fell asleep, while Wesley reacquainted himself with the joys of English TV.   
  
They spent the rest of the day casually, lazing around, sleeping, and watching TV. The next day, Wesley showed her around the city. She loved the Minster, and the whole town had a rustic beauty that she loved. That night they took a "Ghost Tour", going around the city with a guide who pointed out the more haunted parts of the city.  
  
The next morning they caught another train, this time to Newcastle. Unable to visit his uncle as he was at work, they spent the afternoon shopping, buying souvenirs for Cordelia, Angel, and Gunn.   
  
The day before they were due to fly home, from Newcastle airport, Fred had one of the strangest experiences of her life. Wesley took her to a football match – at least that's what he called it – she remembered seeing the game on TV at home once, and it had been soccer then. She took everything in with wide eyes, from the programme sellers – "Perogerammes, getyer perogerammes heyur" – to the game itself. Wesley did his best to explain the rules, but still, when the opposition – she quickly checked the scoreboard – Everton, seemed to have scored, Wesley jumped out of his seat with the rest of the Sunderland fans and yelled "OFFSIDE!" She didn't know what he was talking about, and so he promised to explain it to her later. At one particularly dull part of the match, she realised she was cold and snuggled into Wesley, who promptly held her tightly and kissed her on the lips.  
  
"How man! Gerra room or watch the geam." They laughed.   
  
"Sorry!" shouted Wesley, but his apology was drowned out by the sound of the crowd roaring as Sunderland scored.   
  
After the game, Fred had never felt so alive. She didn't have a clue why the game hadn't caught on in America.  
  
***   
  
Wesley sat on the sofa in the foyer of the Hyperion, completely tired out. Fred leaned against him, the complete opposite. She hadn't stopped talking since they arrived back in the country.  
  
"And then they thought that the other team had scored, but the hadn't, because it was outside, and then-"  
  
Wesley smiled. With his eyes still closed, he corrected her. "Offside. It was offside."  
  
"Yeah. That's it. Offside. And then the goodies ran down the other end and one of the men in red tripped over and the umpire-"  
  
"Referee"  
  
"The referee gave them a penalty. It was a penalty, right?"  
  
"Yes, Fred."  
  
"And then –"  
  
"FRED!" Cordelia yelled. "You're tiring *me* out here, and I only just got up. Can we calm down a bit?"  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"I'm glad you had a good time, Fred," Angel added. "When's the next trip."  
  
Wesley opened his eyes warily. Not for a long time. Do you have *any* idea how much this girl has cost me?!"  
  



	4. Couldn't Get Much Better - 4th In Series

**Couldn't Get Much Better  
** By Vengeance Girl

  
  
DISCLAIMER: These characters aren't mine. If anyone has any problems with me using them, they can give me a bell. (a bell can be heard as Literal Woman enters). No dear, not a real bell.  
RATING: No reason for it to be any higher than a PG, or even a G as far as I can tell.  
SUMMARY: Fred's bored, and Wesley's being distant.  
SPOILERS: Up to Billy I guess, for arguments sake - definitely nothing after. Possibly - well, probably - the other fics in the "Kiss and Tell" series - "Kiss and Tell", "Everything", "How Much", and "Serena".  
  
"Wesley?" Fred laid face down on her bed, leaning slightly over the edge. Wesley sat on the floor, with another of his big books, and she'd spent the last half an hour trying to talk to him. He never ignored her, but she still got the impression he wasn't listening.   
She leaned further over the edge of the bed and started to massage his shoulders. He shrugged her off. She sighed, and patted the space beside her on the bed.   
"I'm lonely up here, and I'm bored. Come and talk to me."  
He replied without looking up. "I would, baby, but I'm busy."  
"Wesley, how can you be *that* busy? We haven't got any cases on, and you can't even spare any time for me?"  
He looked at his watch, and snapped the book shut. "You're right. It's time to have some fun. Get your glad rags on, I'm takin' you out." He stood up.   
"Where?"  
He smiled and tapped the side of his nose. "I'm going to get ready." He leaned down to the bed and kissed her. As he left the room, she smiled. Those kisses were always fantastic - wherever or whenever they were, they were always from Wesley.  
  
Wesley closed the door to Fred's room, and went back to his own, where Cordelia was waiting for him, a suit laid out on his bed.  
"I don't think I can do this any more, Cordelia. I've lost count of how many times I almost told her this afternoon, I had to practically ignore her to stop myself."  
"Well you don't have long to go now. Now. I've got you a suit ready, as you can see - this one is perfect for the occasion. You have the ring?"  
"I bloody well better had do, it cost me a packet." As he spoke, he produced the small box from his pocket.   
"Let me see it again."  
Wesley opened the box, the diamond glittering in the light.   
"Look at that baby. Fred is gonna lose it!" Cordelia looked at Wesley. "I'm so happy for you both."  
"Don't start, she hasn't said yes yet."  
"As if she'd say no."  
  
Fred opened her wardrobe door and stared. 'Somewhere special', he'd said. What kind of special? She pondered over and discarded at least a dozen dresses before she decided on one. The long red dress reached down to her ankles, and the straps tied around her neck. Her back was bare besides one other strap tied around the centre of her back, the skirt section beginning at her waist. She dressed, adding a pair of black heels to the outfit, along with the delicate silver necklace Wesley had bought her on their second date.  
She pulled her tongs out of the cupboard, and plugged them in. When they were hot enough, she straightened her normally frizzy brown hair, and then curled it carefully into ringlets. She checked her watch, and saw she'd been half an hour already. Wesley hadn't said what time they were going out, but she thought she'd do her make-up now anyway.  
Just as she finished applying her lipstick, there was a knock on the door. Wesley's voice floated through.  
"Are you ready?"  
"Just a second," she replied. She quickly sprayed some perfume into the air, and stepped through it. She checked herself in the mirror. She hadn't needed time to touch up her nails, as Cordelia had insisted they go for a manicure together yesterday. She examined the long talons she now sported, a pale pink that went perfectly with her dress. She took a deep breath, hoping this was the kind of 'special' Wesley had meant. Behind the door, Wesley straightened his tie. He knew he wanted to go through with it, but he was nervous as hell. This was multiplied when she opened the door, and he found he couldn't breathe. She looked absolutely breathtaking.  
"Fred, you look … you look absolutely incredible." He loosened his tie some more, and then realised that it wasn't helping. "I've … umm … I've forgotten my wallet, I'll be right back." He dashed back down to the other end of the corridor, and into his room. Slamming the door closed behind him, he leant against it.   
"Cordelia I can't do this. I can't ask her to marry me - there's no way she'd say yes!"  
"Okay, so what's changed your mind in the last five minutes."  
"The way she looks! Why would she settle for me, when she could have any guy she wants looking like that."  
"Wesley. Over the last year and a bit, I've gotten to know Fred well enough to know that with you, she's *not* settling. She doesn't want anyone else but you. And I don't know if you've looked in the mirror lately, but you're not that ugly yourself. Just go and get on with it!"  
"Right." He turned towards the door, but stopped with his hand on the handle. "Cordelia?"  
"WHAT NOW?!"  
"Wish me luck."  
She smiled. "Good luck, Wesley. Not that you'll need it."  
Wesley finally made it back along the corridor to Fred.  
"Is there someone in there, Wesley?"  
"What? In there? With me? No! Whatever would make you think that?! Well … Yes. Cordelia's there. She's … she's … sorting my wardrobe. Throwing some stuff out."  
Cordelia's voice sounded from his room. "Too right I am."  
"Cordelia!"  
"Sorry."  
"Wesley, is something the matter? You've been on edge all day, if not longer, you practically ignored me all afternoon, and now you're telling me that Cordelia is SORTING YOUR WARDROBE?!"  
Wesley sighed. "Okay. This was supposed to wait until the restaurant, but I don't think I can manage it. Not going on the rest of today's performances anyway." He sat down on the top stair, and patted it, indicating for her to do the same. "Do you know what today is, Fred?"  
"Friday."   
"Apart from that?"  
She smiled. "It's a year since our first night out together. At Caritas."  
He was glad she remembered. That was half the battle done with already. "In the last year, Fred, you've made me happier than I've ever been before." Fred blushed. "But you could make me even happier if you would agree to be my wife." Wesley reached into his pocket and pulled out the box containing the ring. He held it out, and with wide eyes she reached out and opened it. She gasped.  
"Wesley, it's … it's … gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe it." His fingers shaking, he pulled it out of the box. He looked at her and spoke with a voice as unsteady as his hand. "Will you let me put it on your finger?"  
She looked at him with a glint in her eye, and with a tear running down her cheek, she nodded. Holding out her hand, she clarified. "Of course I'll marry you. If I've made you even half as happy as you've made me, how could I not?" She kissed him, and she mentally retracted her earlier statement. This kiss beat them all.   
They rested their heads together for a moment, Fred admiring the jewel that now adorned her finger. Wesley smiled, and pulled Fred's hand up. "Come on. Cordelia must be dying in there!"  
They walked over to his door, and Wesley pushed it open to find Cordelia obviously trying to look as if she hadn't been listening at the door.  
"So, Wesley, whatcha doing back so soon?" She tried to keep it casual, but she couldn't get the excitement out of her voice. In reply, Fred held out her hand for Cordy to see. Cordelia squealed. "I told you she would say yes! And I told *you* that you should get a manicure - you're gonna be showing off that baby to anyone in sight - you need good nails. Now, there's so much to organise, I need a new outfit, we need to organise an engagement party, for which I will need another new outfit …"  
"I can see this is going to be hard on my wallet," Wesley muttered. He raised his voice. "Cordelia, I hate to cut you down mid-planning spree, but Fred and I really ought to be going if we want to make the restaurant in time."  
"Right. Got it. I'll be here sorting out your wardrobe …"   
"Cordelia!" His tone had a warning edge to it.   
"Okay, okay. I'll leave your clothes alone. Are you sure I can't even throw away one shirt?"  
"NO!" He held his elbow out and Fred willingly took hold of it, with a huge smile on her face. Fred was glowing - she'd gone from complete and utter boredom to sheer bliss in the space of about an hour, and now she was leaving the hotel with her fiancée on her arm. Life couldn't get much better.   



	5. Arrangements & Arguments

Arrangements & Arguments  
By Vengeance Girl

  
  
THANK YOU: To Regina for beta reading and for giving me a prod when I got stuck for ideas *g* - couldn't have done it without you!  
  
The sun shone down into the courtyard of the Hyperion Hotel. Taking advantage of the bright weather that had been preceded by weeks of fog and rain, Wesley and Fred sat together, enjoying each other's company. They both sat on the now-dry floor, Wesley with his back to the wall and legs outstretched, Fred in between them. Even though they'd been engaged for three months, every morning Wesley woke up and was still amazed that a girl like Fred would even consider marrying him. Every time she laughed, it lit up something in his heart, and every time she cried, it hurt him so much he thought his heart would break. He'd never been this happy with anyone before, and he never wanted for it to end.  
  
He sat, delighting in the sunshine, gently stroking her hair whilst she read to herself. He was happy with her even when they weren't talking, or doing anything in particular. He'd always heard people saying not to mix business with pleasure, but for Wesley, working with his fiancée was pure bliss. He looked up at the sky and noticed it was starting to cloud over, although he saw no signs of rain yet. The air was still warm, but he noticed tiny goose bumps beginning to appear on Fred's arms. Slowly he moved his hands so they were gently rubbing the tops of Fred's arms, warming her up. Noticing Wesley's movement, she closed her book and snuggled back into him, closing her eyes.   
  
There was something she'd been wanting to discuss with him, but she'd never found the right time. She wasn't sure he'd like it, and she didn't want to spoil the moment, but she thought now would be as good a time as any. Without moving or opening her eyes, she murmured Wesley's name.   
  
"Yes, love?" he whispered back, kissing the top of her head as he did so.   
  
"Can we get married at Christmastime? Its such a pretty time of year."   
  
"Whatever you want, sweetheart," he replied, in the same, low tone of voice.   
  
Fred took a deep breath. "And can we get married in England?"   
  
Suddenly the mood was broken. Wesley stopped massaging her arms, and lifted her a little so he could stand up.   
  
"No. I'm sorry, Fred, but no," his answer was commanding, and certain. Fred sighed, and stood up to face him.   
  
"Why not? I'm sorry, but I don't understand why you wouldn't want to get married in your home country. I know you had such an awful childhood, and I wouldn't want to bring that back to you for anything, you know that, but we don't have to get married near your parents. What about York? It was so lovely there. I've always wanted to get married in another country, and England is so romantic." She took another step towards him, and reached out, her hand resting on his upper arm. "Please tell me you'll think about it."   
  
As she spoke, she felt raindrops on her arm, and she sighed again as Wesley walked back into the hotel to escape the weather.   
  
"Give me one good reason why not." Her voice was strong and powerful, and as she walked through the door, it echoed around the lobby, causing Cordelia and Gunn to exchange worried glances.   
  
Wesley turned back to her. "I'll give you three. Number one, all our friends are here. There's no-one in England that I would want to invite, apart from my mother. Number two, I don't want to, and number three ... well I can't think of a number three right now, but I'm sure there's something. It's just got 'bad idea' written all over it. Besides, England isn't as romantic as you think. Especially in winter." "But, please, just say you think about it."   
  
"Fred, can we not talk about this now please?" He turned away from her, and instead spoke to the room in general. "I'm going upstairs. I've got some paperwork to do."   
  
Fred ran behind him, and Wesley sighed as her hand touched his shoulder. "Fred, please. Just let me be alone." He continued to walk, but something was tugging at his mind. "Fred?"   
  
"Wesley?" They spoke simultaneously.   
  
"Yes?" Wesley replied first.   
  
"Are you angry with me?"   
  
"Angry? Oh, no, of course I'm not angry! All you did was ask me a question, there's just some things I need to think about. I love you Fred."   
  
Tears welled up in Fred's eyes as she watched Wesley climb the stairs until he was out of sight. Then she flung herself on the sofa, grabbed the remote for the TV and tried to look as if she wasn't bothered.   
  


*******

Wesley quietly closed the door to the room he shared with Fred and sat down on the floor. He remembered a phone call he'd had with his mother after he and Fred had arrived back in the states.   
  
_ "I enjoyed seeing you with Fred. She seems like a lovely girl - what I saw of her. Ignore what your father said, I don't care that she's American, as long as you love her."  
"It's not a disease, you know mother. He doesn't seem to realise that. Most of the people I've met in America are far nicer than many of those in England - one in particular."   
"Now, Wesley, I know what you said, but couldn't you see fit to forgive your father - just this once?"   
"Mother - I've had a lifetime of "just this once"s. I've given him more last chances that I'd care to remember. No, if he wants to disown me, that's fine with me."   
_  
Later in the conversation, he'd heard _that man_ call for his mother.  
  
_ "I'll be there in a second, dear."   
"Who are you talking to?"   
"It's no-one, just Anne from the Bridge Club."   
"I don't believe you."_ He remembered the scuffle he'd heard, and then his father's voice.  
_ "Hello?"   
"Father."   
"Thought as much."_ Wesley heard the phone drop, and the sound of hand on skin. A sound he was all too familiar with. The voices became fainter, but Wesley could still hear his mothers whimpers.   
_ "Did I not make it clear to you the last time? You are to have NO contact with that waste of a life, and if I even hear that he's been in the country, you'll wish you'd kept your legs shut." _  
  
Wesley had never felt so helpless. Even during his time in Sunnydale, he'd had enthusiasm to get him through, and he did his best to help. But this time there was nothing he could do. He listened, tears streaming down his face, to someone beating the hell out of his mother, and he couldn't do anything. It had been hard for him when he used to be locked in the cupboard, but this time he knew there was no point in even trying to help. He was so terrified for her he didn't even dare shout down the phone. Eventually he replaced the receiver, and thought of all sorts of ways he could get revenge on his father, but none of them would work. Because deep down inside, he knew that his mother loved his father, and she would be devastated if anything happened to him, no matter how badly he had treated her.   
  
He wasn't sure how seriously to take his father's words, but he wasn't willing to take chances. He knew Fred wanted to marry in style, and he wanted nothing more than to make her happy, but this was something he couldn't do, for the safety of his mother. He wondered if he'd over-reacted before, wondering why he hadn't just come straight out and told Fred why he didn't want to go to England, but something wouldn't let him. Embarrassment? Maybe. His pride? Possibly. The painful memories? That was probably part of it, although he'd relived that phone call so many times in his head, maybe telling someone would exorcise it. It was probably a mixture of a lot of things, but the one thing he knew was that he wasn't ready to tell her about it.   
  
Maybe because he thought she'd blame herself.   
  
Maybe she should.   
  
No! Where had that thought come from? He realised with horror that's what had been nagging at him. His father had been worse than ever since he brought Fred home - something else for him to be ashamed of Wesley for. If he'd fallen in love with an English girl, someone his father thought respectable, would it have made a difference? Who knows. He knew he loved Fred. He knew he wanted to marry her. So what was wrong with him?   
  
He jumped slightly as there was a knock at the door. "Wesley?"   
  
Cordelia's voice came floating through to him.   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Wesley, your mom's on the phone. It sounds kinda urgent."   
  
The second he heard the words 'your mom' he flung open the door and grabbed the telephone from Cordy's hands.   
  
"Mum? What's the matter, are you alright?"   
  
"It's your father, Wesley, he's had a heart attack." Although he thought he didn't care what happened to his father, hearing his mum sound so upset tugged at something inside him. "He's been asking for you."   
  
"Asking for *me*?! Why?"   
  
"The doctors don't think he'll last much longer. I suppose he just wants to say goodbye. I've been on the phone, and there's a flight from LA to Leeds/Bradford tonight. I'd appreciate it if you'd come."   
  
"Of course I will." He looked over at where Cordy stood, looking at him worriedly. He smiled reassuringly, and nodded towards the stairs. As she descended the stairs he made the necessary arrangements with his mother, and then hung up, re-entering his room long enough to pack a small suitcase. He didn't know how long he'd have to be there, but the hospital wasn't far from home and he could wash things if he needed to.   
  
A small cough came from the doorway, and he turned to see Fred standing there, leaning against the frame. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked, her voice small.   
  
"Yes, I'm afraid I have to go to England, I'm catching a flight later tonight."   
  
"Is something wrong at home?"   
  
"My father's had a heart attack. I wouldn't go, but I think mum need's some support."   
  
"Would you like me to come with you?"   
  
Wesley smiled, locked his suitcase and walked over to the bed, sitting on the end of it, and patting the space beside him. Fred came and sat next to him, and he took her hand. "I need you to stay here. Keep them all in control for me. I don't think I'll be away too long."   
  
"Are you sure you'll be alright on your own? I can come if you want ..."   
  
"I wish you could be there, but I think this is something I'm going to have to do on my own." He looked up into her face. "I'm going to miss you *so* much, Fred."   
  
"I'll miss you too." She stood up and walked over to the small chest of drawers on her side of the bedroom. Unlocking the bottom drawer, she pulled out a small, stuffed bear, with a halo held above its head by a string. She handed it to Wesley. "My mom gave me this when my Gran died. She said it was my guardian angel, and it was to make me feel better whenever things are hard. Take it with you, and I'll be there with you the whole time."   
  
Wesley smiled again. Fred was so sweet to him - what had he done to deserve her? He set the bear down beside them on the bed, and enveloped Fred in a massive hug.   
  
"Oh - and Wesley?" She whispered, reluctant to let go.   
  
"Mm?"   
  
"We don't have to get married in England you know. As long as you're there, it'll be perfect wherever it is."   
  
"Wait until I get back, and then we can talk about it." To himself, he added 'it mightn't be an issue by then'. He looked at his watch, and reluctantly broke the hug. "I have to go. I'll call you when I get there." Picking up his suitcase, he started to head downstairs.   
  
"I'll be waiting by the phone."   
  


***** 

  
  
Wesley sat on the plane, trying to concentrate on the book he'd brought, but unable to direct his attention towards it. His eyes roamed all over the compartment, always coming to rest on Fred's guardian angel that was sitting on the pull down table in front of him.  
  
She'd been right - he had been away from her for two hours, and already he missed her, but the bear made it seem as if she was there with him. He didn't know why he missed her so much - they'd been apart before. Maybe it was because this time he didn't know when he'd see her again. He looked at his watch. There was still hours to go before he reached Leeds, so he packed away his book and attempted to go to sleep instead.  
  


***** 

  
  
The journey from Leeds to Surrey did not usually take long. But his plane had landed in the middle of rush hour down the A1, so it took the taxi at least four hours to get to the hospital where his father was. When he finally arrived, his mother was waiting anxiously for him at the main entrance.   
  
"Wesley, thank God you're here."   
  
"How is he?"   
  
"Not good. You should go and see him."   
  
"How are you?"   
  
"I'm holding up." Molly smiled, to demonstrate this, and turned to lead Wesley towards his father's room. When they reached it, she put a hand on the doorknob, and looked at Wesley questioningly. He nodded, and she pushed the door open and entered.   
  
"David?" She spoke gently. "David, Wesley's come to see you."   
  
"About time. Margaret, can you leave us please? I'd like to talk to my son alone before I go."   
  
"Yes, of course." As Molly left the room, Wesley's father tried to sit himself up slightly. Wesley stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed, face stern.   
  
"Wesley. Nice to see you." Wesley could see the strain it was causing his father to be polite.   
  
"No, its not. Why am I here?"   
  
"You're right, it's not nice to see you. Have you changed your mind about that American girl at all?"   
  
"Only in that we're getting married.   
  
"You're determined to be a disgrace to me, aren't you child?!"   
  
"No, father. My aim in life, contrary to your opinion, is not to be a disgrace to you - I have better things to think about than you. My aim in life is to be successful, and happy. Thanks to Fred, for the first time in my life, the latter is true."   
  
"I want you to look after your mother once I'm gone."   
  
"Whatever would give you the idea I wouldn't? All my life, *you've* been the one who has beaten her to a pulp, and traumatised us both, not me. I don't think you have the right to patronise me like that, do you?"   
  
There was something about this situation that Wesley liked, in a morbid sense. His father had no way to retaliate, and Wesley could finally let out all the frustrations that would have earned him a slap at any other point over the last 30 years. He realised that was part of the problem with Fred, if not all of it. He didn't think that she deserved to get the blame - he was just looking for someone *to* blame. All his life, he'd let anger bubble up inside of him instead of letting it out healthily. Partly through fear that his father would hurt him, but mainly because he was afraid of becoming his father. He rarely argued or shouted, because he didn't know if there was a chance he would become like the man he loathed more than any other.   
  
"Do you realise, father, that because of you, I spent a great part of my childhood locked in a cupboard? No wonder I was so scrawny, when you only gave me the bare minimum to eat and drink so that I would stay alive. Is it any wonder that I despise you? So I hope that you haven't asked me here to get my forgiveness, because if you have, you can think again."   
  
"Well, look at that. My son's grown a backbone."   
  
"A backbone, perhaps. But you know what? There's no way I'm ever going to become like you, because I know what you were like, and I could never hurt anyone like you hurt me. You traumatised me, you know. I was so paranoid, and so frightened, it's only over the last few years since I got some *real* friends that I've realised what a sad man you are. There's a part of me that's still that little boy locked in the cupboard. Still, after all these years. But that part is becoming more and more like someone else, and less and less part of me. You aren't going to be part of me forever."   
  
"Don't you care that you'll be leaving your mother with a blackened name by marrying this girl? If she is a girl - what kind of a name is 'Fred' for a girl?"   
  
"It's short for Winifred, and apart from that, mother loves Fred. She's just happy that I'm happy, as you would be if you were any kind of a father at all."   
  
"You'll know one day, when you and your wench have children of your own, how difficult it is to be a father, and you'll wish you hadn't said those things to me."   
  
"I sincerely doubt that. If I'm the kind of father to my children that you were to me, I hope that Fred leaves me and takes them away, but I intend never to let that happen."   
  
"Get out."   
  
"Can't think of a comeback, father? Unusual for you. It must be because you can't use your fists to get your point across. What a shame. I'm going to ring Fred, let her know I arrived OK. Because *she* cares."   
  


***** 

  
  
Wesley spent the next four days sitting outside his father's room. Not once did he enter, and not once did his mother ask him to. He didn't know if his father had told her what had gone on inside his room, but Wesley guessed not. His mother told him he'd gone into a stupor the night he'd spoken to Wesley, but he was being tough, refusing to die. Typical of his father, too stubborn to even die on time. He called Fred every morning and every night, and as the days passed he was missing her more and more.   
  
On the afternoon of the fifth day, the doctor left his father's room to talk to Wesley.   
  
"He only has minutes left. I think your mother would appreciate it if you went in now."   
  
Wesley thanked the doctor, and stood up, entering the room quietly. His mother turned to him.   
  
"He's almost gone now. I can feel it." Wesley moved the chair from the other side of the bed, and placed it next to his mum's. He gripped her spare hand, choosing to support her rather than hope for a miraculous recovery by his father. That was something he just couldn't bring himself to do. They sat in silence, listening to the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. Wesley wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there when the beep-beep-beep turned into one long, continuous noise. Neither him nor his mother moved - they knew what had happened, the doctor would be along soon.   
  
Wesley hardly noticed when the doctor came in. It felt strange - he'd spent so much of his life hating this man, and yet now he was gone, it hurt. He felt like something was missing - it felt as if he'd actually been a Dad to him.   
  
The next couple of days were a blur, making arrangements for the funeral and such like. His mother declined his offer to move to LA - she decided she was "too old" to move so far away from everything she knew, so instead she was moving to Newcastle to live with his uncle and his wife.   
  


***** 

  
  
The morning after the funeral Wesley walked down the stairs of the family home - he used the word 'family' loosely - for the last time. All his mother's possessions were boxed up, ready for her to leave, and the house didn't feel the same, but he still couldn't say he wasn't glad to see the back of it. Knowing he would never be coming back here was a refreshing feeling, as if he was exorcising something.   
  
He and his mother spent the rest of the day loading up his father's car, and then they headed up to Newcastle, Wesley driving. He stayed long enough to have a cup of tea with his uncle, and then left for the airport. He was missing Fred more than he thought possible, although he liked having the bear with him. He hadn't let it out of his sight the whole time he'd been in England, and although it was a poor substitute for Fred, he was starting to grow attached to it.   
  
He arrived at the Hyperion late that night. He quietly slipped inside, being careful not to make any noise or turn any lights on. Once he was into the Lobby he opened his suitcase and took out something to sleep in, before heading into the downstairs bathroom to get changed. He decided to leave his case there til morning, to avoid making a noise, and instead headed straight for bed.   
  
He opened the door to his and Fred's room slowly, peeking around it before entering. He smiled when he saw Fred curled up on her edge of the bed, clutching a photo frame containing a picture of the two of them together. He slowly crept into the room, prising the picture from her fingers, and slipped into the bed beside her. He certainly didn't want to be accidentally accosted by a picture frame in the middle of the night.   
  
He leant over and kissed her on the cheek, whispering "Lets get married in England," into her ear, before he turned over and fell asleep himself.   
  



	6. Understanding

** Understanding  
** By Vengeance Girl

  
  
Wesley was fussing, as usual. Everything had to be perfect. Of course, he had the right to be picky - it was his wedding day after all - but still, sometimes he needed to relax.  
  
"Wesley; calm down!" Angel sighed, exasperated. He wondered if Cordy was having this much trouble with Fred.   
  
"Yo, man, the guests are arriving." Gunn popped his head around the door, gave Wesley a thumbs up, and then went back to his ushering duties.  
  
"Oh, God." Wesley started to wring his hands together again. "Angel, this is all going to go horribly wrong, I can feel it."  
  
"Wesley." Angel grabbed his friend by the shoulders and pushed him down onto the bed. "What could possibly go wrong? You've checked everything at least three times, Fred's parents flew in yesterday, your mom's on her way now, the flowers are just right, you're ready and dressed; everything is going to be perfect!"  
  
"What if she changes her mind?"  
  
"Oh, for God's sake, Wesley. If she changes her mind, I'll eat my hat."  
  
"You're not wearing a hat."  
  
"I'll find one."  
  
Gunn entered again. "Are you good to go, English?"  
  
"About as ready as I'll ever be."  
  
"Good, coz I think they're ready for you out here."  
  
The walk from the hotel room seemed like the longest of his life. Down the stairs, along the corridor, down the aisle. They'd chosen to marry in a hotel, rather than a church. There was less to organise, and it was less expensive - apart from which, they didn't have enough guests to even half-fill a church. They wanted a small, simple ceremony. Fred's parents. Wesley's mother and uncle. Angel, Cordy and Gunn. Giles, seeing as he was in the country. They were going to have a blessing once they arrived back in America, for the people that couldn't attend. Fred's aunts and uncles, some people from Sunnydale. And a hotel was the best they could do for the Christmas Eve wedding Fred had her heart set on; everywhere else was booked out long in advance. England was cold this time of year - more so than the rest of the year, anyway - but Fred had wanted to marry here, and Wesley had realised it would be a great opportunity to blow away any of the cobwebs he had left about this place. Especially now his father was gone, he had nothing to be afraid of.  
  
Standing at the front of the room, by the altar, Wesley surveyed the room. Angel was right, everything *was* perfect. His nerves started to calm slightly as he looked around the room. Everything was going to be fine.   
  
Until the music started. The first few chords of "Here Comes the Bride" rung out and he was away again, fidgeting for England. The guests stood and turned to face the back, eager for a glimpse of the bride. Wesley waited for Fred to appear. She wasn't going to show, he was sure of it. But then she did. Seconds before he had a nervous breakdown, she appeared through the curtain at the back of the room. She was a vision to behold, the long white dress flowing to her ankles, bouquet of white flowers amongst the green leaves, and her curly brown hair held back by a single white rose.   
  
Wesley gasped when he saw her. Every time he thought she couldn't get any lovelier, she surprised him. She flashed him one of her dazzling smiles, and rearranged her grip on her father's arm. Cordelia also looked wonderful, in a dress of a similar style, but this one pale blue, following the bride down the aisle.   
  
Fred reached the front, and kissed her father. Then she turned to Wesley.  
  
"Fancy seeing you here," she whispered, with a smile.   
  
"You look amazing."   
  
"You don't look so bad yourself." He smiled at her, and then they both turned their attention to the front.   
  
It was a simple, traditional service. Everything went without a hitch. Wesley held his breath as the priest asked if anyone knew of any reason they should not be married, but no-one spoke up. Angel didn't forget the rings; the mother of the bride cried; Cordelia cried. It all went as planned. An hour later, Fred had become Mrs Winifred Wyndham-Pryce.  
  
The chairs that had been set up for the wedding were quickly rearranged around tables, and lunch was served. The food was gorgeous, but Wesley hardly noticed - he couldn't take his eyes off the woman next to him. His wife. No matter how many times he said or thought these two little words, they didn't lose any of their sparkle.   
  
Angel had agreed not to make a speech - partly for his own benefit, and partly for Wesley's. He didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of these people, and besides - what was the point of him making a speech when he was one of only a handful of guests. So that tradition out of the way, they moved swiftly along to the next - the first dance. They had decided not to hire any kind of disco for so few guests, but the hotel was holding a Christmas disco that they all attended instead. The DJ invited Wesley and Fred to take the first dance, and Wesley finally got to hold Fred in his arms for the first time as his wife. It felt fantastic.   
  
Giles tried to slip away without being spotted, but to no avail. Wesley caught up with him just outside the main doors.   
  
"Leaving already?"  
  
"I'm afraid so - I've got a busy day tomorrow, need that sleep." He smiled. "Nice to see you happy, Wesley. From what I've seen of Fred she's a stunning girl."  
  
"Thank you." Wesley appreciated the elder man's compliment. There was an awkward silence when neither knew what to do - should they hug? They weren't *that* close after all.   
  
"Well ... ah ... bye then." Giles shook Wesley's hand, and then he was gone.   
  
By eleven o'clock, the remaining guests had left, so the newlyweds retreated to their room to be alone at last. The second the door was closed, Wesley pushed Fred against it, and kissed her tenderly and lovingly. His hands moved down the back of her dress, grasping the zip.  
  
"You know," he whispered seductively, "you look absolutely breathtaking in that dress…"  
  
"But?"  
  
"But you have no idea how much I've been looking forward to taking it off you."  
  
Fred giggled, but wriggled uncomfortably in the doorway. Wesley pulled away.  
  
"Fred, is something wrong?" He rubbed her shoulders. "You're very tense."  
  
"No, nothings 'wrong', as such..." she took his hand and led him over to the bed. "Wesley," she took a deep breath. "You know, in the Catholic church, marriage is understood to be sacred, and it's all about agreeing to share absolutely everything with the other person, and there's a whole section about babies, I'm sure of it, but anyway, you see, Wesley, I'm pregnant." The last three words came out in a rush, and Wesley almost missed them. Almost, but not quite. The stunned look on his face said it all. His hand dropped limply away from her knee, where it had been resting. She looked at him and smiled hopefully. "Happy Christmas?"  
  
His mind became very blank and yet very full of thoughts at the exact same instant. He felt joy wash over him, and then it was replaced by a sudden feeling of terror. He tried to thing of something to say, but only gibberish was coming out of his mouth.  
  
"You're … I see … well … but we haven't even discussed … do you think we're ready for …" he stopped, and tried to collect his thoughts. With some difficulty, he managed to stop saying a number of sentences at once, and pulled the words together into one. "I need some air."  
  
"Shall we go for a walk?"  
  
"It's okay, you stay here … rest … I'll not be long." He kissed her gently on the forehead, before picking up his jacket and walking dazedly out of the room. Wesley reached the ground floor of the hotel, still with no idea where he was going, until he spotted the hotel bar. He wandered towards it, and sat himself down on a stool. One drink to steady his nerves, and then he'd go back and talk to Fred.  
  
"What can I get you?"  
  
"Whisky, please." The bartender delivered, and Wesley drank it down in one gulp, slamming the glass down on the bar. His determination of seconds ago was gone. "Another, please." He knocked back drink after drink for the next half hour, trying to get his thoughts together while he sat there, but instead only succeeding to slur them into even more nonsense.   
  
"Wesley, Fred's worried about you." Wesley looked up, his eyes bloodshot, and tried hard to focus on the figure that had appeared beside him.   
  
"Gunn?" This made Angel frown.  
  
"Whoa-kay, I think you've had enough, don't you?" He turned to the bartender. "Has he paid you for all this?"  
  
"It's all on the bill."  
  
"Thanks." Angel helped Wesley to the bottom of the stairs, before he realised that the Englishman was too far gone to support his own weight. He slowly lifted him up, and carried him to Angel's own room, instead of his and Fred's. He dumped Wesley on the bed once he got in the door, and lifted the phone.   
  
"Fred? He's here with me, he's fine. Is Cordy still there with you? Good. I'll bring him over as soon as I can. Don't worry." Angel sighed as he replaced the receiver. The poor girl was devastated. She hadn't told him what had caused Wesley to go off like that, but he knew Wesley - it must have been something major for him to react like that.   
  
He decided to sit and wait until Wesley woke himself up a little more before trying to find out what had happened. As it turned out, he didn't have long to wait, as moments later Wesley was rushing to the bathroom to throw up.   
  
He emerged ten minutes later, looking flushed and ill, but seemingly more sober. "Ah … Angel. Thank you. I'd best be getting back-" his hand on the door handle, Angel stopped him.  
  
"Oh no you don't. Not until you tell me what's so awful that it's made you do this."  
  
Wesley sighed. When Angel got that determined look, there was no point arguing.  
  
"Fred's pregnant." Angel's eyes widened.  
  
"And that's a bad thing? Wesley, I should be congratulating you, not helping to keep you upright!"  
  
He sighed again. "I know, Angel. And I am happy, something in me is ecstatic, but ... something in me isn't. What if I'm not a good father, Angel? What if I turn out like my own?"  
  
"Okay, stop right there. There is no way that's going to happen - your Dad was a monster of the worst kind - the *human* kind. You fought that your whole life - too long for you to ever be like him. But say it did happen, you know how strong Fred is - she survived five years alone in Pylea, for God's sake - she would set you straight, and she wouldn't take any crap from you. You know that, right?"  
  
"I know, but ... I'm just ... scared, I suppose."  
  
"And you don't think all the other new Dads out there are?"   
  
"On his death bed, he told me I'd have children of my own one day, and then I'd know what he felt like. I told him he was talking a load of bollocks, but what if he was right?"  
  
"Pull yourself together, Wes, you know you were right, he *was* talking rubbish. This is going to be a whole new adventure for you and Fred. Enjoy it all!"  
  
Suddenly something seemed to click into place inside Wesley. Everything Angel was saying made sense. This was his wedding night - he should be with his wife, not here moaning about the child he was going to have helped bring into the world. He should be celebrating! He was in completely the wrong place - he had to get back to Fred.  
  
He jumped off the edge of the bed, and ran out of the door, shouting his thanks to Angel. Angel smirked to himself - he was really a very smart guy, but sometimes, he needed a bit of a prod in the right direction.   
  
Wesley knocked gently on the hotel room door before he entered. Cordelia was sitting on the edge of the bed, next to a sleeping Fred. When she spotted Wesley she flashed him an angry look.  
  
"Where have you been?" she hissed, dragging him away from Fred as she spoke. "She thought you weren't coming back." She stared into his eyes angrily for a few seconds longer before she spotted how bloodshot they looked. "Oh, this is great. She's been beside herself, and you've been drinking away, forgetting it all." She sighed. "Look. She wouldn't tell me what the problem was, she just kept telling me to find you. I suggest you go and get washed, and then talk to her. I, however, am going to bed." Cordy took her jacket from the back of a chair, and then walked out of the door without another word.   
  
Wesley took her advice, shrugging off his suit jacket before heading to the bathroom. He splashed his face with water, then turned back to face Fred. He gently lowered himself onto the bed beside her, ignoring his throbbing head, and placed his hand on her shoulder. She looked worn out, her face tearstained, her carefully styled hair hanging loose around her shoulders. Wesley spotted the rose that had held it up lying discarded on the floor. She still wore her wedding dress, and as he studied her sleeping form, he noticed her fingers curled tightly around the one displaying her wedding ring.   
  
"Fred? Fred love, are you awake?" his voice was barely more than a whisper, but she bolted awake at the sound of his voice, and flung her arms around his neck.   
  
"Oh, Wesley - you came back!"  
  
"Of course I came back."  
  
"Where did you go?"  
  
He blushed. "That doesn't matter now. What's important is I'm sorry I left like that, and ... I wanted to say … merry Christmas." He pulled a small package out of his pocket, and handed it to her.   
  
Her eyes lit up as she took the parcel from him. "Oh! I have a gift for you, too. Wait a minute." She leapt up from the bed, and pulled a slender box out of her suitcase before returning to her place on the bed. She eagerly tore at the wrapping on her box, handing Wesley his gift, and indicating for him to do the same. Removing the Christmas paper left her with a small black jewellery box, which she opened carefully. She gasped as she saw the delicate silver bracelet inside, designed to read "Winifred and Wesley" in elegant Celtic lettering. Wesley unwrapped his box. He snapped back the lid to reveal a watch, silver around the edge of the face, the strap black leather.   
  
"Turn it over," she whispered, as she fastened her bracelet onto her wrist. He did so, and immediately spotted the words "Wesley and Winifred" inscribed on the back. He laughed out loud, and gathered Fred up into a huge hug.   
  
"We really are perfect for each other, aren't we?" he laughed, as Fred nodded. "We're going to make a wonderful family." He shifted round to place a hand on her stomach, smiling. "All three of us."  
  



	7. Trials

Trials  
By Vengeance Girl  
  
**SERIES**: Eighth and probably final part of the Kiss & Tell Series. The rest can be found here, and at a variety of other sites :D  
**SPOILERS**: The whole series started before Offspring, and then went AU, although there are slight spoilers for Birthday.  
**FEEDBACK**: Please - I thrive on it - rach@wholenew.deep-ice.com - keep my inbox company!  
**DISCLAIMER**: So, next time I'm in the kitchen and I have an accident and spill some milk, >poof **AUTHORS NOTE**: Big huge hugs and thanks to Selina, who not only helped me write the *first* version of this fic, she stuck with it when my computer ate it and helped me write the *second* version as well. And lots of thanks to Regina, for prodding with her prodding stick, and helping me figure out where I was going wrong.  
**SUMMARY**: She's all that he wants, she's all that he needs ... but does she see it?  
  
****  
Wesley slipped his key into the lock. He turned it noiselessly, and held the door open for his wife to enter with the sleeping child that lay in her arms. Fred smiled briefly, her usually sparkling eyes looking tired. She headed straight for their daughter's bedroom, and as Wesley went to bring their suitcases inside, Fred closed the door with her heel and flicked on the light.   
  
She lay the girl carefully on the bed, and slipped off the comfortable T-shirt and trousers she'd worn to travel in. Quietly she rummaged through the drawers until she found one of the pairs of pyjamas they hadn't taken away with them, and changed her into them. Throughout this, the child didn't stir. "She's a deep sleeper," thought Fred, smiling. "Just like her father," She lifted the covers, and moved her daughter underneath them, kissed her on the forehead and left her to sleep.  
  
"She asleep?"   
  
"Yeah. Didn't wake up at all." Fred joined Wesley on the sofa. Curling her legs underneath her, she snuggled into the arm he lay round her shoulders.   
  
"Well, that was ... " Wesley paused, searching for the right word to describe their holiday. ".. an experience."  
  
"It was definitely that."  
  
"Anna enjoyed herself, didn't she?"  
  
"Yeah. She's quite the little English girl now - although I'm not sure about some of the slang she's picked up from the other kids round there!"  
  
Wesley chuckled. "She'll forget it all, soon enough." He glanced at his watch. "I suppose I should ring Mum, tell her we got back safely."  
  
"Won't she be asleep? It's like, 4am there."  
  
"I can leave a message. She'll just worry if I don't. Especially now she's met Anna, she always did worry more when children were involved." He replied, standing. "Would you like a cup of tea?"  
  
"Nah, I think I'll just go to bed. Are you coming?" Fred's eyes perked up slightly.  
  
"I'll just ring Mum, check the post, and then I'll be there. You go - you look like you could use it!"  
  
"If I had the energy, I would hit you with something, but I don't, so I'll just glare," Fred joked.  
  
Wesley walked back across the room towards her, cordless phone in hand. She held her hand up pitifully, indicating him to help her. He took it, and jerked her out of her seat and into his arms. "You know you'll always be beautiful to me." He leant down and kissed her softly on the lips. She kissed him back, spoiling the moment slightly by stifling a yawn. Wesley laughed. "Go on. I'll be in soon."  
  
"Promise?"  
  
"Promise."  
  
Released from Wesley's arms, Fred traipsed into their bedroom, tired but happy. He watched her, smiling, until she closed the door, before returning his attention to the phone. Dialling quickly, he impatiently listened to the message on his mother's call minder, waiting for the tone.  
  
"Mum, it's just me. We got back about half an hour ago, no problems. Umm ... we're going to bed now, so I'll speak to you soon. Bye." Wesley hung up, hating those machines with a vengeance. Yes, they were practical, but the messages on them always seemed cold, even now when he'd been using them for years.  
  
Unbuttoning his shirt as he turned off the main light, Wesley entered the bedroom and smiled at the sight that greeted him. He slid his arms under his wife's slender, fully-clothed, and fast asleep body, moving her under the covers, not wanting to wake her. Quickly changing into something more comfortable than the clothes he'd been wearing to travel, he slipped himself under the covers, and within seconds he too, was fast asleep. Hush fell over the Wyndham-Pryce household once again.   
  
*****   
Sunlight streamed through the pale blue curtains onto Wesley's face, and he blinked awake. He smiled to see Fred still sound asleep. He rolled over to look at his clock, but instead almost jumped out of his skin to find Anna standing beside the bed, grinning from ear to ear. "Daddy!" The four year old drew out the last vowel sound, and Wesley grinned back. Holding a finger to his lips, he pulled the covers back and scooped her into his arms, carrying her back into the living area. He glanced at the wall clock and noted with surprise that it was almost noon. He was impressed Anna had slept that long, even as tired as she had been. She usually had the energy of a Slayer and never slept past nine am.   
  
"Let's leave Mummy to sleep shall we?" he murmured. "She's even more tired than you were."   
  
"I wasn't tired." The brunette shook her pretty curls defiantly. Wesley laughed as he walked over to the kitchen area, still in his boxer shorts, his hair tousled. "Would you like some breakfast?"  
  
"Yes, please." The voice came from the bedroom doorway, not his daughter, and he looked up to see Fred standing there, looking considerably better for the rest she'd gotten. "I'd kill for a coffee."   
  
Flicking the switch on the kettle, Wesley grabbed his wife by the waist, and kissed the top of her head. "Feel better for that?"  
  
"A thousand times." She turned in his arms so that she faced him, and leaned up for a morning kiss.   
  
"Daddy, I'm hungry." The moment interrupted, they both laughed.  
  
"Okay, sweetie-pie," replied Fred. "We'll get you something, and then shall we'll go and see Angel and Cordy, okay?"  
  
****   
"Angel, have you seen my shampoo? I swear, we've got a cosmetics eating demon in this place!" Cordelia skipped down the stairs, spotted the bottle on the side of the kitchen sink, and frowned. "Angel, have you been using my shampoo?" She turned to head back up the stairs, and jumped when she saw the little girl standing there, grinning. "Jesus, Anna! You scared me!" She smiled as the child ran to her and hugged her tightly round the legs. Looking up, Cordy spotted Wesley and Fred standing in the hotel doorway, watching the scene before them. Dislodging Anna from her legs long enough to lift her up, Cordelia laughed. "Hey guys! Welcome back! How was England?"   
  
"Tiring, but I think we all enjoyed it," replied Wesley, walking down the steps to join his daughter and her Godmother. Anna lifted her head from Cordy's shoulder.   
  
"I had fun."  
  
"I'm glad," laughed Cordy.  
  
"Aunt Cordy?"  
  
"Yes sweetie?"  
  
"You're minging." The word sounded out of place in Anna's accent, a mix of Fred's Texan twang and Wesley's English one.   
  
"I am? Well, that's ...." she trailed off, looking puzzled. "What's that mean?" she mouthed, over Anna's head. Fred indicated that Cordy should pass the girl to her, and Wesley pulled Cordelia to one side.   
  
"She seems to have picked up rather a lot of slang from the children near my mother's home. As far as I can tell, 'minging' means ugly, but I must be more out of touch than I thought. We're hoping she'll forget it all soon enough."  
  
"She thinks I'm ugly?" Cordelia exclaimed, obviously hurt.  
  
"Who thinks you're ugly?" The three of them turned to see Angel walking down the stairs. "I think you're beautiful."  
  
"That's great, babe, but I'm still not gonna sleep with you," she smiled.  
  
"Damn!" Angel laughed. He turned instead to where Fred and Anna stood. "How about you, Anna? Are you gonna give your Uncle Angel a big hug?" Anna giggled, and held her arms ready to clamp round his neck as soon as Fred passed her over. Wesley turned back to Cordelia.  
  
"We don't think she actually knows what the words mean, she's just heard them being used and decided she likes them. As I said, we think she'll forget them in a couple of weeks."  
  
"You English. You'd think it was your language or something. No respect!" Wesley laughed, reaching over to the kitchen area and grabbing a towel, swatting Cordy on the arm with it.  
  
"Oh, you'll pay for that, Chase!"  
  
"I will, will I?" Cordelia lunged for the bottle of shampoo she'd discarded when they entered, flipped the cap open and prepared to squirt Wesley with the brown goo it contained.  
  
"Hey, you two!" Fred yelled, smirking. "Careful will ya? That's his only clean pair of pants, and I don't wanna have to wash anything tonight!" Wesley grinned triumphantly. Lowering her weapon, Cordelia's eyes glinted.   
  
"You haven't won yet, mister. I'll get you when you least expect it, and then-"  
  
"Excuse me?" A new, female, voice interrupted. Wesley couldn't quite place it, but he had the strangest feeling he'd heard it before somewhere, a long time ago. Fred walked towards the door, and held out her hand.   
  
"Hi, can we help you?" Fred looked the woman up and down. She got a bad feeling about her, but she didn't know why. _'Perhaps it's because she looks like a slut?'_ Fred thought, shocking herself. She wasn't sure where that thought had come from, although there was an element of truth to it. She wore a short red leather skirt that would be better described as a belt, and a red shirt fastened only by the top two buttons. She looked very confident in herself, and going against her first thought, Fred found herself feeling envious of this woman. Realising she was probably a new client, Cordelia blushed and quickly dropped the shampoo onto the ledge behind her, smoothing down her skirt.   
  
"I'm looking for Charles Gunn, I believe he works here?"  
  
"Usually, yeah, but I'm afraid he's out of town on some business right now, he'll be gone a coupla weeks," Angel spoke up, still holding Anna in his arms.   
  
"Oh. That's a shame."  
  
"Is there anything we can help you with?" Wesley walked towards the door, staring intently into the woman's eyes. There was definitely something familiar about them. She looked at him, and he felt a shiver run down his spine.  
  
"Yes, perhaps you can." She smiled. She was speaking directly to Wesley, everyone could feel it. He was the one she was interested in. Fred felt jealousy bubbling up inside her. "Is there somewhere we could go to discuss my problem? Somewhere more ..." she smiled provocatively. "more private?"  
  
Wesley smiled a smile Fred had only ever seen him give her. "Yes, of course. Step into my office." He held his arm out to indicate the room, not dropping his gaze from her eyes at any point. He closed the door behind him.   
  
Fred stood still in shock, watching as the woman spoke to her husband. She saw him nod, and observed as he leant over and closed the blinds.  
  
"Okay ... what the hell just happened?!" Cordelia was the first to speak up, voicing Fred's own thoughts. What the hell *had* just happened? Pushing all negative thoughts to the back of her mind, Fred walked over to Angel and took Anna from him. Wesley would never cheat on her, she was sure of it.   
  
"When he comes out of there, tell him we went home. We'll see him back at the apartment. I'm taking the car, he can get a cab."  
  
"Fred ..." Angel put his hand on her shoulder. "Fred, you know Wesley would never -"  
  
"I know." She nodded. "I'm just tired, is all."  
  
"You sure you're okay?" Cordelia looked sceptical, and Fred spotted the worry in her eyes. She forced a smile.  
  
"I'm certain." Without another word, Fred took her daughter and left. Angel turned to Cordelia.  
  
"That didn't look good."   
  
****  
Wesley turned to the woman and smiled pleasantly. "So, how may I help you?"  
  
"Oh, well, it's nothing, really," she began, walking towards him sensuously. Unnerved, he walked backwards away from her until he crashed into the wall. Placing a hand either side of him, she brought her face close to his. "I've seen you around."  
  
"Oh?" he squeaked.  
  
"How would you like to go for dinner with me?" Wesley stiffened at this and twisted out from where she had him pinned. Standing in the middle of the room, where it was safe, he cleared his throat.  
  
"I'm sorry, uhh.." he searched his memory for a name.   
  
"Catherine."  
  
"Catherine. I'm married, and I'm very happy as I am, thank you. Now, can we help you with anything else?"  
  
She sighed. "Yes. But you're sure I can't tempt you?"  
  
"I'm absolutely positive."  
  
"Okay, then I have some demons in my apartment. I want you to check them out for me. Get rid of them."  
  
"That's what we're here for. Okay, I'll just get one of my associates to take down the details -"  
  
"No. You will do it." She stared at him, evidently waiting for a response of some kind. He stared back.  
  
"I'm sorry, I've just returned from a holiday. I'm not supposed to be working today. I suggest you allow Cordelia to talk to you." He opened the door. "Cordelia? Could you get in here please?"  
  
Dropping the magazine she was reading, Cordelia walked over to him. "Yeah?"  
  
"Could you take down some of Catherine's details? She has a problem in her apartment that needs looking into -"  
  
"No, its okay. I'll come back another time when you're not quite so busy." She walked briskly out of the hotel, and Cordelia looked around her.  
  
"Yeah. You do that. Because we have so many *other* customers right now." She turned to Wesley. "What was with her?"  
  
"I'm not sure ... there was something ... familiar. Not about Catherine herself - more ... more a feeling I had. I think there's something more to her than just a few demons." He shook his head and looked up. "Where's Fred?"  
  
"She took Anna home."  
  
"In the car?"  
  
"Yeah. She said you could get a cab."  
  
"Oh, I can, can I? That's nice of her!"  
  
"Wesley, is something wrong?" Cordelia sat down and patted the seat beside her.  
  
"No. Should it be?"  
  
"It's just ... ever since that woman came in, you were ... well, it looked to me - and probably Fred, too - like you were flirting. And now you're being snarky about Fred. It's just - it seems odd."  
  
He sighed, and sat down. "I don't know. It seems odd to me, too. It's probably just jet-lag - wait - you thought I was flirting?" he interrupted himself. Cordelia nodded apologetically. "Oh, Christ. Was Fred upset?"  
  
"I think she was a little ... flustered. Confused, maybe. I'm not sure about upset though. Although you know Fred - if you give her too long to dwell on it, she'll just make it worse.  
  
He nodded in agreement. "I'd better be getting back home and talk to her, then."  
  
"Shall I call you a cab?"  
  
"That'd be nice."  
  
"You're a cab!" Wesley groaned at the bad joke, and Cordelia laughed. "Come on, it was at least a little funny!"   
  
He glared at her. "No, Cordelia, it really wasn't! Its the oldest joke in the book!" He smirked. "Okay, it was still a little funny."  
  
****   
Catherine walked out of the Hyperion into the bright sunshine. Standing on the steps outside, she dug around in her purse, finally pulling out her cell phone. Pushing a few buttons, she waited impatiently as it rang, squinting around her into the LA daylight.   
  
"It's me. He's resisting, but I'll have him eating out of the palm of my hand soon enough." She listened to the voice on the other end. "I know how much time I have. You won't be losing my services."   
  
Part Two 


End file.
